Due to the fact that I have been locked out of my host family's house, I have decided that this afternoon will be a great time to write to you all about the school that I taught at over the past few weeks. I may have given the impression that my trip to Peru has been nothing more than an extended vacation from the real world; however, I'm almost certain that I have done more work here than I could have ever done working a part time job in the United States.
When I'm not climbing the deepest canyon in the world, or riding horses through the Arequipeña countryside, I'm actually quite busy working. My typical day during the week starts a little bit before my alarm clock goes off, which happens to beep me out of bed at 6:40am. I usually manage to wake up a little bit beforehand. (Today, I woke up at 6:39am, which I found to be extremely impressive) I roll out of bed and get dressed, putting on my devlishly attractive GVI shirt, and a pair of clean or dirty pants depending on the last time I took clothes to get washed at the Casa de Avila. After getting dressed, I head to the bathroom to freshen up, and then I pack my bookbag for the day. While packing my bag my sound trivial, any volunteer will tell you the difference between a well packed bag and one that is slightly less prepared may be the difference between chaos and order in the classroom. Trust me, a day with Casinos (delicious chocolate cookies) is much better than one without.
I hate to break with the wonderful rhythm that I’ve already established in the post, but I’d just like to say that the internet here is Peru is strange. By that, I mean that is annoying and unreliable. I usually write my posts on blogger.com because they save automatically and it’s just simpler, but right now I’m using good old fashioned Microsoft Word. For some reason, the internet just isn’t working even though the computer and my iPod both say that everything’s fine and dandy.
Anyways, I eat breakfast with my host family every morning around 7:05am. We have bread, hot milk, and I get orange juice because I told my host mother that it was my life blood. After stuffing my breakfast down my throat, I wait for the combi at the corner of our block. Occasionally, the combi comes on time, but rarely. I usually enjoy my ride. I didn’t last Friday. I think I may have upset the driver because I was standing on the wrong side of the road. (It’s during those moments that I pretend I don’t speak Spanish ) He was an idiot, but that’s beside the point. I’ve actually made friends with one of the cobradores.
Next, after screaming “baja a la esquina,” I run into the Casa de Avila and depending on the time of my arrival, help hand out sandwiches to the other volunteers or count the fruit for the day. We bring 86 mandurins to Victor Maldonado on Monday; it’s quite the counting task. Then as soon as the counting ends, we’re off to Sachaca: the dryest, poorest, most densely populated (not with people, but stray dogs) section of Arequipa. No less than twenty minutes later, we are at school climbing the infamous set steps that lead us to our beloved escuela primaria: Victor Maldonado. We have two schools, soon to be three. The other is called Triunfo, and I will probably never speak of it again because it is inferior, and not worthy of this blog. (Basically, it is our rival school and every volunteer from there believes their school is better. The difference is our school actually is better.) We had a showcase day last week, where all the schools in the district met for a special program. You can probably guess which school was out of control, and inadvertadly led our students to act up. Haha.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Tidbits and Day Three
Day three was not actually a day.
After finally getting back to civilization, we put our bags in the hotel that we stayed in for the night. Everyone took a much needed shower, and then we headed out for dinner. We ate at one of the local bars. It was small, but cozy, and I definitely enjoyed the experience. I had the chance to try alpaca, but I decided to go for chicken. I'd rather have good alpaca when and if I choose to try it before I leave.
The following morning we left for home. The ride felt like forever. Everything looks the same in the mountains, and I just felt like we were going in circles over and over, but as we crested over a hill I saw the field of lights that I've come to call home over the past few weeks. Oh Arequipa, how I love thee.
Random Tidbits:
The chocolate brands in Arequipa are different. I think some of the larger stores have Hershey, but most of the chocolates are made by Nestle here. I've tried quite a few, some of which I can't remember, but the best one is called Sublime. It's ridiculously good. Imagine a Mr. Goodbar and then multiple its tastiness by a factor of ten. That's Sublime. I buy it everyday. I bought a pack of twenty yesterday, and there are three left.
Imodium AD is the king of pills, and Advil is his queen.
People like to talk. Especially if you are waiting to pick up an international package in the post office, and have nothing else to do for three hours. I met a fellow North Carolinan while I waiting, and reaffirm my belief that Peru is still not over the Swine Flu. The lady that processed my package was wearing a mask, and she also refused to speak spanish to me. Literally, I responded to everything she said in Spanish, and she still spoke in English. Haha.
My school is amazing, and I don't want to leave Arequipa. If you'd asked me that the first day I was here, I might have said something different.
After finally getting back to civilization, we put our bags in the hotel that we stayed in for the night. Everyone took a much needed shower, and then we headed out for dinner. We ate at one of the local bars. It was small, but cozy, and I definitely enjoyed the experience. I had the chance to try alpaca, but I decided to go for chicken. I'd rather have good alpaca when and if I choose to try it before I leave.
The following morning we left for home. The ride felt like forever. Everything looks the same in the mountains, and I just felt like we were going in circles over and over, but as we crested over a hill I saw the field of lights that I've come to call home over the past few weeks. Oh Arequipa, how I love thee.
Random Tidbits:
The chocolate brands in Arequipa are different. I think some of the larger stores have Hershey, but most of the chocolates are made by Nestle here. I've tried quite a few, some of which I can't remember, but the best one is called Sublime. It's ridiculously good. Imagine a Mr. Goodbar and then multiple its tastiness by a factor of ten. That's Sublime. I buy it everyday. I bought a pack of twenty yesterday, and there are three left.
Imodium AD is the king of pills, and Advil is his queen.
People like to talk. Especially if you are waiting to pick up an international package in the post office, and have nothing else to do for three hours. I met a fellow North Carolinan while I waiting, and reaffirm my belief that Peru is still not over the Swine Flu. The lady that processed my package was wearing a mask, and she also refused to speak spanish to me. Literally, I responded to everything she said in Spanish, and she still spoke in English. Haha.
My school is amazing, and I don't want to leave Arequipa. If you'd asked me that the first day I was here, I might have said something different.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Colca Canyon: Day 2
The first night was an experience to remember. The food that we ate actually wasn't that bad. I'd say it was almost equivalent to the food that my host mother feeds me during the week, which is pretty good. It was quite surprising, considering the fact that our guides cooked the food over a wooden stove. After eating, we all went straight to bed. There really isn't a lot to do in the deepest canyon in the world after the sun goes down.
Luckily, all of the GVI volunteers were able to sleep in the same room together the first night. There were six beds in the barn that we slept in. (Yes, we slept in a barnish type building.) Instead of using all six beds and sleeping seperately, we made a joint decision to place three beds side by side, and create one gigantic bed that all of us could sleep on together. It turned out that one of the other volunteers decided that sleeping on the crack of two beds wasn't actually all that comfortable, but the others of us slept together. It was definitely something I'll never forget. Plus, none of us were cold the next morning when we woke up to go to breakfast.
Breakfast was a real treat. Once again the guides surprised us. We ate banana filled creps with chocolate for breakfast. It was definitely the best breakfast that I've had in Peru. (I always have jelly and toast for breakfast when I'm with my host family) After breakfast, we climbed a little bit more before beginning our descent back to the bottom of the cannon. There were several times during the climb down that day that I felt a little bit queasy. I could have easily fallen off the mountain, but thankfully they gave us a hiking stick, which turned out to be very useful.
Colca was a three day trip, but the climbing only took up two days. After reaching the bottom for a second time, we climbed back up a little bit. Believe it or not there was a resort on the other side of the canyon, and we stopped there for lunch. They had a pool that used running water from the canyon, but it was still maintained a professional appearance despite the clear lack of advanced technology. The water in the pool was cold, but it was definitely a nice break after climbing. After lunch, we finished the climb, and came back to Chivay for the night. We all slept in the same room again, even though I think we paid for two rooms at the hotel.
If I had to give some advice about mountain climbing to potential hikers, I'd say that you should bring lots of water. I brought three bottles of water on the trip, and none of the other volunteers brought any. We (they actually) spent about S/.30 on water, and if they had bought water before they probably wouldn't have paid more than S/.10. Asi es la vida.
Luckily, all of the GVI volunteers were able to sleep in the same room together the first night. There were six beds in the barn that we slept in. (Yes, we slept in a barnish type building.) Instead of using all six beds and sleeping seperately, we made a joint decision to place three beds side by side, and create one gigantic bed that all of us could sleep on together. It turned out that one of the other volunteers decided that sleeping on the crack of two beds wasn't actually all that comfortable, but the others of us slept together. It was definitely something I'll never forget. Plus, none of us were cold the next morning when we woke up to go to breakfast.
Breakfast was a real treat. Once again the guides surprised us. We ate banana filled creps with chocolate for breakfast. It was definitely the best breakfast that I've had in Peru. (I always have jelly and toast for breakfast when I'm with my host family) After breakfast, we climbed a little bit more before beginning our descent back to the bottom of the cannon. There were several times during the climb down that day that I felt a little bit queasy. I could have easily fallen off the mountain, but thankfully they gave us a hiking stick, which turned out to be very useful.
Colca was a three day trip, but the climbing only took up two days. After reaching the bottom for a second time, we climbed back up a little bit. Believe it or not there was a resort on the other side of the canyon, and we stopped there for lunch. They had a pool that used running water from the canyon, but it was still maintained a professional appearance despite the clear lack of advanced technology. The water in the pool was cold, but it was definitely a nice break after climbing. After lunch, we finished the climb, and came back to Chivay for the night. We all slept in the same room again, even though I think we paid for two rooms at the hotel.
If I had to give some advice about mountain climbing to potential hikers, I'd say that you should bring lots of water. I brought three bottles of water on the trip, and none of the other volunteers brought any. We (they actually) spent about S/.30 on water, and if they had bought water before they probably wouldn't have paid more than S/.10. Asi es la vida.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Colca Canyon: Day 1
A lot of people will probably tell you that foreign countries are different, and that you should be ready for a different world. Honestly, that's some really good advice for someone whose never been out of their home country before; however, after going to Colca last weekend, I think I truly deserve to say that I've been to a different world. I know I've been saying that Arequipa is different from the United States, and it is different, but Colca was really different.
I woke up at about 2:45 in the morning last Friday to begin my trip. The night before, my family arranged a taxi to come pick me up at 3:00AM. The taxi ride wasn't actually that strange at all, even though it certainly could have been. The only bad thing about the taxi was that I got charged S/.5 (that reads 5 soles) for the trip to the Casa, which is outrageous. Not too long after that, I was in a Mercedes charter bus cruising toward Colca Canyon.
We made a few stops along the way. The first stop was a bathroom break. For some strange reason, the women's bathroom was an actual room and the men had to use a portapotty. The next stop was a viewing station for taking pictures of the Condors that fly in and around the canyon. The condors are actually quite ugly, but they're a nationaly protected bird, and everyone else seemed to love them, so I took a few pictures just for the heck of it.
Finally we arrived at Cabanaconde, the base town for the trip, and we ate lunch there. Afterwards, the trek began! (And it was quite the trek) The first day was almost entirely downhill, and I still don't think my knee has recovered from all of the work it did. We spent about five hours hiking down into the Canyon, and the whole time I was just trying to think about the bridge at the bottom of the canyon. For the first two hours, I couldn't even see it. About three hours into the hiking, I thought I was getting really close to the bottom, but for some reason that last little part of the canyon was quite deceiving. The small part that I had left to hike took me about two more hours and turned out not to be that small.
Upon reaching the bridge, I was extremely tired and ready for some food. The locals there are also aware of the typical tourist's condition when they reach the bottom of the canyon, and thus try their best to make a profit from it. There were women at the bridge selling Casinos (the best chocolate cookies in Peru) and various drinks. Naturally, I wanted to chow down on some food, and kick back with a sprite in my left hand, but that changed when I asked how much a sprite (one, not three) costs, and the lady said, S/.5. I ended up drinking my water, and eating half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was about three days old. It was delicious. (Really it was, no sarcasm)
We had to climb back up part of the mountain in order to get to our lodgings that night, and that wasn't too bad. A mule carried our bags for us, and we had dinner around 7. I was really surprised that mules could climb these mountains because the paths are hardly walkable for a human, but animals do amazing things.
I'm typing from an English laptop... :) I'm happy.
I woke up at about 2:45 in the morning last Friday to begin my trip. The night before, my family arranged a taxi to come pick me up at 3:00AM. The taxi ride wasn't actually that strange at all, even though it certainly could have been. The only bad thing about the taxi was that I got charged S/.5 (that reads 5 soles) for the trip to the Casa, which is outrageous. Not too long after that, I was in a Mercedes charter bus cruising toward Colca Canyon.
We made a few stops along the way. The first stop was a bathroom break. For some strange reason, the women's bathroom was an actual room and the men had to use a portapotty. The next stop was a viewing station for taking pictures of the Condors that fly in and around the canyon. The condors are actually quite ugly, but they're a nationaly protected bird, and everyone else seemed to love them, so I took a few pictures just for the heck of it.
Finally we arrived at Cabanaconde, the base town for the trip, and we ate lunch there. Afterwards, the trek began! (And it was quite the trek) The first day was almost entirely downhill, and I still don't think my knee has recovered from all of the work it did. We spent about five hours hiking down into the Canyon, and the whole time I was just trying to think about the bridge at the bottom of the canyon. For the first two hours, I couldn't even see it. About three hours into the hiking, I thought I was getting really close to the bottom, but for some reason that last little part of the canyon was quite deceiving. The small part that I had left to hike took me about two more hours and turned out not to be that small.
Upon reaching the bridge, I was extremely tired and ready for some food. The locals there are also aware of the typical tourist's condition when they reach the bottom of the canyon, and thus try their best to make a profit from it. There were women at the bridge selling Casinos (the best chocolate cookies in Peru) and various drinks. Naturally, I wanted to chow down on some food, and kick back with a sprite in my left hand, but that changed when I asked how much a sprite (one, not three) costs, and the lady said, S/.5. I ended up drinking my water, and eating half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was about three days old. It was delicious. (Really it was, no sarcasm)
We had to climb back up part of the mountain in order to get to our lodgings that night, and that wasn't too bad. A mule carried our bags for us, and we had dinner around 7. I was really surprised that mules could climb these mountains because the paths are hardly walkable for a human, but animals do amazing things.
I'm typing from an English laptop... :) I'm happy.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
El Sol y la Calle
This weekend was different, and by different I mean I went to the Salinas National Park in Peru. We had to wake up a little early to get to Casa de Avila, but I really didn't mind it at all. I've noticed that for some reason I find it much easier to wake up in the morning here versus back home. It's a strange pheonomeon.
The Salinas is basically a large salt lake. It isn't the most impressive thing I've ever seen, but at the same time I don't think I've ever seen anything like it. We basically traveled for about two hours to see a large salt flat, and a bunch of llamas. There were supposed to be flamingos, but for some reason we didn't see any, which was a little disheartening. I got a lot of good pictures while I was there. On the way up the mountain range we stopped at a small village, that was basically in the middle of no where. Everything is basically in the middle of no where here. I live on the edge of the desert. Anyways, the true thrill of the ride came after we left the village. After leaving the village, all paved roads ended and from that point forward, my head did not stop bouncing up and down. The were literally some of the worst roads I have ever seen (Actually, to call them roads would be a joke.) Luckily, I got to sit in the middle of the car and didn't hit my head that much.
While we were at the salt lakes, I managed to get sunburnt on my neck. I remember feeling the Sun while we were walking, but I didn't think that it was bad enough for me to get burnt. Well, it turns out I was wrong. At 4000 meters the Sun happens to be a little stronger than it is back home, and my neck was roasted. The GVI manual said that sunscreen was an essential item, and they meant it. A few days ago, I was talking with my Spanish instructor and she asked me the factor of my sunscreen. I told her that I brought SPF 30 with me and that I had a little bottle of SPF 55. Her reaction was priceless: she laughed at me and told me that SPF 30 was useless in Arequipa, and that SPF 55 would only give me moderate protection from the sun. At first, I just thought she trying to warn me about the sun by overeacting to my answer, but it didn't take long for me to see the light.
The sun is extremely powerful in Arequipa, and the UV factor can get up to about 20. In North Carolina, the worst level of UV radiation is 10. On average, the UV level is about 10 in Arequipa because of a hole in the ozone that is located directly over the city. Therefore, gringos carry sunscreen like it's money. An interesting little fact: the unit in which currency is measured in Peru is called the sol (Sun).
Now, I can understand why the Incans worshipped the Sun.
The Salinas is basically a large salt lake. It isn't the most impressive thing I've ever seen, but at the same time I don't think I've ever seen anything like it. We basically traveled for about two hours to see a large salt flat, and a bunch of llamas. There were supposed to be flamingos, but for some reason we didn't see any, which was a little disheartening. I got a lot of good pictures while I was there. On the way up the mountain range we stopped at a small village, that was basically in the middle of no where. Everything is basically in the middle of no where here. I live on the edge of the desert. Anyways, the true thrill of the ride came after we left the village. After leaving the village, all paved roads ended and from that point forward, my head did not stop bouncing up and down. The were literally some of the worst roads I have ever seen (Actually, to call them roads would be a joke.) Luckily, I got to sit in the middle of the car and didn't hit my head that much.
While we were at the salt lakes, I managed to get sunburnt on my neck. I remember feeling the Sun while we were walking, but I didn't think that it was bad enough for me to get burnt. Well, it turns out I was wrong. At 4000 meters the Sun happens to be a little stronger than it is back home, and my neck was roasted. The GVI manual said that sunscreen was an essential item, and they meant it. A few days ago, I was talking with my Spanish instructor and she asked me the factor of my sunscreen. I told her that I brought SPF 30 with me and that I had a little bottle of SPF 55. Her reaction was priceless: she laughed at me and told me that SPF 30 was useless in Arequipa, and that SPF 55 would only give me moderate protection from the sun. At first, I just thought she trying to warn me about the sun by overeacting to my answer, but it didn't take long for me to see the light.
The sun is extremely powerful in Arequipa, and the UV factor can get up to about 20. In North Carolina, the worst level of UV radiation is 10. On average, the UV level is about 10 in Arequipa because of a hole in the ozone that is located directly over the city. Therefore, gringos carry sunscreen like it's money. An interesting little fact: the unit in which currency is measured in Peru is called the sol (Sun).
Now, I can understand why the Incans worshipped the Sun.
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Combi
As a proud citizen of North Carolina, I can honestly say that I have never taken a taxi or a combi. In North Carolina, there really is no need for taxis because almost everyone owns a car and destinations are generally too far apart for combis or taxis to really be useful. Although, there are some taxis in Greensboro and the surrounding area, the amount is trivial in comparison to the number of taxis and combis in Arequipa. Somedays when I look up to cross the street as I walk to the Plaza de Armas, I see nothing but yellow. There are literally thousands of taxis in Arequipa. Interwined between the taxis are the combis. I take a combi to the Casa de Avila everyday, which is where the GVI volunteers meet before going to the schools as well as the location of my spanish lessons. Today is my last day of six hour Spanish lessons!
The combi has been quite the experience for me. The driving in Peru is radically different from anything I've ever seen in the United States. If I had to make a comparison, I would say that it´s similar to driving in Florida. Most of the drivers in Peru don't actually have licenses because it's not required. Therefore, it's easy to see why the driving is terrible. There have been several times when I thought that we were going to hit someone while driving, or that we were going to get hit by on coming traffic. I always have to hold onto something whenever I´m in the combi, even if I´m sitting down and facing forward. The afternoon is generally the worst time to take a combi. The number of passengers in the average combi goes up exponentially around five o'clock. Many times, I've had to stand awkwardly in a combi, with my butt in someone else's face or my arms rapped around a pole during my trip home to El Remanzo de Yanahuara (the name of my neighborhood). Believe me when I say, the cobrador really knows how to squeeze people into a bus that's only made for about ten.
I've had some trouble with combis too, but in general they´re alot safer than taxis. The first time I tried to come back from the Casa de Avila, the combi passed my stop. When I asked the cobrador (the money collector) if we had passed my neighborhood he just looked at me and smiled. Anyways, I got back to my neighborhood, but I had to take two combis, and pay twice.
I just realized I've been putting accent marks instead of apostrophes in all of my posts. Wow, I hate these keyboards.
The combi has been quite the experience for me. The driving in Peru is radically different from anything I've ever seen in the United States. If I had to make a comparison, I would say that it´s similar to driving in Florida. Most of the drivers in Peru don't actually have licenses because it's not required. Therefore, it's easy to see why the driving is terrible. There have been several times when I thought that we were going to hit someone while driving, or that we were going to get hit by on coming traffic. I always have to hold onto something whenever I´m in the combi, even if I´m sitting down and facing forward. The afternoon is generally the worst time to take a combi. The number of passengers in the average combi goes up exponentially around five o'clock. Many times, I've had to stand awkwardly in a combi, with my butt in someone else's face or my arms rapped around a pole during my trip home to El Remanzo de Yanahuara (the name of my neighborhood). Believe me when I say, the cobrador really knows how to squeeze people into a bus that's only made for about ten.
I've had some trouble with combis too, but in general they´re alot safer than taxis. The first time I tried to come back from the Casa de Avila, the combi passed my stop. When I asked the cobrador (the money collector) if we had passed my neighborhood he just looked at me and smiled. Anyways, I got back to my neighborhood, but I had to take two combis, and pay twice.
I just realized I've been putting accent marks instead of apostrophes in all of my posts. Wow, I hate these keyboards.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
The Dark Abyss of Day One
Like all good stories, mine starts at the beginning. It´s been quite the adventure so far (Yes, this warrants the word adventure, because I put riding in a combi through Arequipa right up there with a riding through the Safari in Africa. There´s nothing like it.) So, my story begins with two uncomfortable plane rides, and one surprisingly comfortable plane ride.
On my way to Peru while I was still in America, I managed to find a group of adults that were going to Peru for mission work, and pretty much stuck close to them when I was in the George Bush International Airport in Houston. It was a pretty big airport, but I had plenty of time to go between terminals contrary to my original thoughts/worries. I think I walked about a mile in that airport. The Orlando Airport had a tram. That was slightly more intimidating, but I made it without a problem.
The problems came when I got to Lima. While we were on the plane, we had to fill out a form about the Swine Flu detailing our physical state and if we had any symptoms of the Swine Flu: cough, headache, fever, etc. Naturally, I thought this was a normal procedure that all countries did whenever there was an ¨epidemic.¨ Well, when I got off the plane I was greeted by hazmat suits. It was great!! (Extreme sarcasm) On top of feeling extremely uncomfortable, no one, and I mean no one, spoke English at the airport. By that I mean, they couldn´t speak English well enough for me to clearly understand them. Plus, all of the airline attendants were wearing masks. Apparently, the Swine Flu is a huge deal here. They actually call it the North American Flu. Anyways, everyone in the airport looked like an official to me. So, I basically had no idea who I needed to ask for assistance once I got off the plane. Seriously, every person looked like an offical, and only about a fourth of them were officials.
As soon as I picked up my luggage, I had ladies offering me cellphones. After that, there were about twenty men, yelling, ¨Your taxi is waiting.¨ These men acted like they knew who I was, and that they had a taxi actually waiting to take me somewhere. They were ridiculously convincing. A few months ago, one of the GVI volunteers accidentally took one of the taxis, and the taxi driver drove him to an ATM and told him to take out all his money. Afterwards, he returned him to the airport and let him go. (I know it makes no since.) I doubt I could make it through a taxinapping. Anwyays, I had a lot of trouble in Lima. No one spoke English and those who did wore masks, making it impossible to hear them. I had never felt so alone in my life. I literally had no one. I finally got to Arequipa at about 5AM, and found out that it´s actually freezing here. :) The kids who picked me up from GVI were... sketchy, to say the least. We road in a combi back to Casa de Avila, the hostel where I have my spanish lessons. It was cold in my room, and I went to sleep almost as soon as I got put down my bags.
Finally, I´d just like to say that apparently I have it pretty good here. At least that´s what the man beside me just told me. haha.
On my way to Peru while I was still in America, I managed to find a group of adults that were going to Peru for mission work, and pretty much stuck close to them when I was in the George Bush International Airport in Houston. It was a pretty big airport, but I had plenty of time to go between terminals contrary to my original thoughts/worries. I think I walked about a mile in that airport. The Orlando Airport had a tram. That was slightly more intimidating, but I made it without a problem.
The problems came when I got to Lima. While we were on the plane, we had to fill out a form about the Swine Flu detailing our physical state and if we had any symptoms of the Swine Flu: cough, headache, fever, etc. Naturally, I thought this was a normal procedure that all countries did whenever there was an ¨epidemic.¨ Well, when I got off the plane I was greeted by hazmat suits. It was great!! (Extreme sarcasm) On top of feeling extremely uncomfortable, no one, and I mean no one, spoke English at the airport. By that I mean, they couldn´t speak English well enough for me to clearly understand them. Plus, all of the airline attendants were wearing masks. Apparently, the Swine Flu is a huge deal here. They actually call it the North American Flu. Anyways, everyone in the airport looked like an official to me. So, I basically had no idea who I needed to ask for assistance once I got off the plane. Seriously, every person looked like an offical, and only about a fourth of them were officials.
As soon as I picked up my luggage, I had ladies offering me cellphones. After that, there were about twenty men, yelling, ¨Your taxi is waiting.¨ These men acted like they knew who I was, and that they had a taxi actually waiting to take me somewhere. They were ridiculously convincing. A few months ago, one of the GVI volunteers accidentally took one of the taxis, and the taxi driver drove him to an ATM and told him to take out all his money. Afterwards, he returned him to the airport and let him go. (I know it makes no since.) I doubt I could make it through a taxinapping. Anwyays, I had a lot of trouble in Lima. No one spoke English and those who did wore masks, making it impossible to hear them. I had never felt so alone in my life. I literally had no one. I finally got to Arequipa at about 5AM, and found out that it´s actually freezing here. :) The kids who picked me up from GVI were... sketchy, to say the least. We road in a combi back to Casa de Avila, the hostel where I have my spanish lessons. It was cold in my room, and I went to sleep almost as soon as I got put down my bags.
Finally, I´d just like to say that apparently I have it pretty good here. At least that´s what the man beside me just told me. haha.
La Pausa
It´s been a while since I made a post on here, and I thought it might be a good idea for me to explain myself. First, I would like to say that I don´t think I was intially aware of the conditions in Peru. Im my head, I thought that Peru was like the United States, and that we (the GVI volunteers) would be traveling to a location that was less fortunate or could be categorized as third world. Well, it turns out that the large majority of Peru can be classified as a third world country, including the city of Arequipa. For that very reason, and the fact that I´m always busy, I have not really been able to get to a computer to write about my experience. Nonetheless, I´m still going to try and update this thing at least three times a week.
I can´t stand to type on computers here because they use a Spanish based keyboard and the shift button is in a different location. So, instead of writng ¨I,¨ I have the tendency to write < i.
I been taking spanish lessons since Monday, and they´re going pretty well, but one of my teachers said that I have a special accent: Southern. Spanish is really difficult here. My teachers are extremely critical when it comes to pronunciation, but that's OK. Anyways, my next teacher is here, and I have to go. I'll update again soon.
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